


i love cake, and i love you

by enmity



Category: Tales of Series, Tales of the Abyss
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 07:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17803865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmity/pseuds/enmity
Summary: Ion, Anise, and a mountain of paperwork. Good thing there's tea and cake to keep them company.





	i love cake, and i love you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secretagentfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretagentfan/gifts).



> Covert Cupid gift for secretagentfan - also my first time writing this ship. I chose to follow the prompt for fluff and managed to slip one tiny smooch in >< Sorry it's slightly late, or if it's not exactly what you expect, but I hope it's to your liking!

Walking in, Anise pushed the door shut with one shoulder, then plated the slices of cake and settled the mugs of tea on the table in Ion’s room. It was hardly an office, really, never mind the narrow bed that sat in the corner opposite the window, and as she sat herself across from him it crossed her mind that perhaps with all the internal power struggles Ion constantly found himself caught in, it wasn’t so much of a surprise that all he was left with was a modest space that sometimes felt more like a cage than either an office or a bedroom.

Ion wasn’t the type to go on requesting luxury by virtue of his position, but she was. _It didn’t even come with a good view_ , Anise had complained two years ago, arms spread upon opening the curtains for the first time, and she’d been sure even her plush companion would agree. The midday sun had filtered through the glass, lighting up the tiny flecks of dust clinging to the windowsill. _Mohs sure takes you for granted! The Fon Master deserves better,_ she’d told him, hands on her hips as she stomped one foot, and Ion had only laughed at her suggestion that he demand a larger office – one that preferably did not double as a sleeping space, because, _seriously?_

 _I’ll think about it,_ he’d replied, shrugging lightly at her skeptical gaze, and sure enough, he never did pull through on that flimsy promise. He didn’t even seem to mind the cramped space; she’d had to admit that with the addition of checkered curtains and potted plant she’d brought over the following week, the room almost had a cozy, lived-in feel to it.

Of course, Anise thought, it was easy to feel comfortable when a mug of warm, steaming tea was staring you down. Not to mention the cake to go with it. However, all sense of relaxation evaporated the moment she remembered that the reason they were both stuck in here to begin with was because of the documents piled high on the right side of Ion’s desk.

“Ugh,” Anise scoffed, averting her eyes from the offending mound. It seemed to grow bigger the more she looked at it, so she didn’t. “It’s a perfectly beautiful day outside and those old coots think you should spend it doing _paperwork_. How nefarious. You ever thought about showing that Mohs what-for and planning a revolt?”

“Anise, you know that’s not how it works,” Ion said, tone patient as ever. Two years ago she would’ve expected him to tense at her offhand suggestion, but now he just set his drink down, remarking, “The tea’s delicious. Did you make it?”

She nodded absently. Who else? She was the only one who remembered how he liked his tea. That was the way it went with most things. Mohs only ever spoke to Ion when it was to demand that he do things _his_ way, and no doubt a good amount of his followers shared the sentiment that the Fon Master was nothing but a tool to needle and push around.

Even those outside the Grand Maestro faction looked at Ion less like a person and more a figure on a pedestal. None of them could care to know that Ion enjoyed have tea in the evening as he sorted through his paperwork – let alone that he liked it mild, with milk and just a hint of sugar. (The cake was an added bonus, but everyone liked cake.)

Honestly, two years ago she might’ve been one of them. Being appointed to be what was essentially his bodyguard made her realize that for all the composure he carried himself with, in more ways than one Ion acted just like another kid not much older than her. Sometimes Anise wished she could take him by the hand and pull him away from all the responsibilities foisted on him at such a young age – but all she could do now was help organize his files and bake confections for him in an attempt to ease the burden a touch.

She picked one of the files Ion had finished signing and placed it on the finished stack. Politics wasn’t any of the business of a Fon Master Guardian, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t picked up far more information than she could ever need or want over the months. Something about politics made her nauseous, even though she wasn’t so much involved in it as she stood perpetually in its periphery. If it was this bad for her, she couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be Ion. If _she_ were in charge, as she’d told him once, she would’ve made sure they didn’t need to jump through a million hoops to make change happen.

(If she were in charge, then maybe she’d never have to see him wearing that tired, vaguely uneasy expression every time he walked out of an Order meeting and thought she wasn’t looking. But this part she had not said.)

“I still think you should be more – assertive.” The word did not so much roll off her tongue as it did trip out of it. “Anyway. You should have the cake, too. It’s good.”

“You’re too kind, Anise. You always look out for me.” The metal fork slid through the frosting, and she saw his face light up at the first bite.

“I knew you’d like it! My mom showed me how to get the batter as fluffy as possible, and we had some left over. Way better than whatever the chefs downstairs could come up with – if I do say so myself…”

When Ion murmured how he hadn’t had much opportunity to taste the confection, she muttered, “I won’t be surprised if they tell you not to have any sweets out of concern for your _health_. As if keeping you locked up in here with only paperwork and books for company was going to keep you in shape any better.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Only the shuffling of paper interrupted the silence stretching across the room. They ate the cake and drank the tea, and for a moment Anise wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Her tea was warm, cloying; with his nose buried in the files he was looking over, she couldn’t see his expression.

“Thank you, Anise. I know you mean well.”

The sun outside wasn’t blinding, but as it broke through the clouds, she couldn’t help but feel as though it made the smile Ion turned towards her all the brighter. But it wasn’t his usual smile – not really. It didn’t look like an attempt to placate her or make her stop fussing over him so much like all the other times.

In fact … it looked a touch sad.

 _This position is my responsibility,_ Ion had said, once. _I can’t just quit, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to._ Before she’d had the chance to interject, he’d turned around and added, _besides_ , _do you really want hand Mohs more control over the order than he already has?_ – smiling softly all the while.

 _I just wish it didn’t have to be you, though,_ was what she’d wanted to say. Instead she’d frowned and said something to the tune of resentful acquiescence. Despite her bravado, she couldn’t be brave when it mattered the most.

Bringing herself back to reality, Anise set her fork down and, before she could go back to the work still awaiting, managed to stifle her giggle at the spectacle she’d noticed in front of her. A moment ago she’d felt pensive, but now the tension gave way and seemed to melt in an instant.

“Ion, you’re so clumsy sometimes. You’ve got frosting stuck on your nose!”

“O-Oh!” he stammered, a faint but rapidly deepening blush spreading across his face. “Sorry. I better clean this up…”

“No worries! I carry a handkerchief with me.” Procuring it it from a pocket in her bag, Anise leaned over towards him, knees pressing into the chair’s cushion. “My cooking was that good, huh? Here, let me help you with that.”

It only took a second for her to register the proximity she’d created between them. Ion seemed to notice too, if the way he darted his eyes wasn’t just her imagining it. She broke from her spell of distraction long enough to wipe the smidge of buttercream off the boy’s face. In that moment, he’d looked so cute… or so was her excuse. In truth, she felt like nothing could justify the action she took next – which was to bridge the miniscule distance between them and press a brief, abrupt kiss on Ion’s nose.

Now it was her turn to blush, hard.

“I-I’m sorry, Ion! I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what came over m-”

“Anise… It’s fine,” he murmured.

_We’ll just say our faces bumped on accident and pretend it never happened! Huh?_

She didn’t say that, though. She didn’t say anything at all. Instead she sat back down, sipped the last of her tea, and looked hard into the table in an attempt to fight the lightheadedness rushing through her.

She’d always liked Ion – hadn’t she? For a long time Anise thought she could simply be content being by his side, protecting him. That was her duty, after all. And wasn’t that enough?

Evidently not. Just like she couldn’t stand only being able to protect Ion from the dangers of the outside world rather than the wolves waiting to pounce on him in the Order, it turned out she could neither stand to sit and do nothing about her growing feelings for him.

Once more the silence lengthened across the room.

And once more, Ion was the one who broke it.

“Anise,” he said, warm patience seeping through his voice. “We should finish up our work for the afternoon. You’re right – it really is a lovely day today. I’d like to go on a stroll, if you don’t mind accompanying me.”

“But Mohs might insist you stay in.” Not that she would let that man have his way, of course, but Ion had always been concerned about keeping her out of hot water, even if it were for his sake.

“Ah,” Ion said. “I think sometimes… I could stand to listen to my guardian more often.”

“Then we should definitely hurry up so the it won’t be nighttime by the time we finish _this_ ,” she said, perking up, and when she caught the fond smile he threw her way, she swore it felt as though the sun outside shone brighter for just a fraction of a second.


End file.
